


Chilly Down Chilly Down prompts

by Fufflebumps (Pippip_hurray)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Chilly Down Chilly Down prompts, De-Aged Characters, Drabbles, F/M, Ficlets, Flirting, Gabooty, Gabribug, Gabrinette - Freeform, Gen, Identity Reveal, Innuendo, Kissing, Marimoth, Power Play, Prompt Fill, Shorts, age gap, collection, dubcon kiss, partial reveal, suggestive speech
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippip_hurray/pseuds/Fufflebumps
Summary: A collection of ficlets for the Gabrinette Square from theChilly Down Chilly Down prompt list. Send me a prompt and it could end up here. ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Features a relationship with a large age gap. Don't like; Don't read. Go find your bliss.
> 
> For those of you following You Can't Steal My Heart: I do plan to continue it! I've been working a lot and have been struggling to do things that I really want to do, including writing- including plotting. Thank you for your patience.

The rabbit hole of the internet is a dangerous place. Her face was hot. She could feel the tips of her ears burning. The image seared in her brain, and she could not look away. Would not look away. Marinette clutched her phone tightly in her hands. She managed to force her eyes shut, but it was still there. When she opened them again, the smouldering over-the-shoulder gaze of one twenty-year-old Gabriel Agreste wearing only a pair of brightly colored denim pants continued to threaten to melt her from the screen.

It wasn't a secret that Gabriel had modeled in his youth and while he was getting his own brand off the ground. He didn't hide it. However, Marinette had not seen that part of his career beyond the cursory coverage of it in the design-centric biopics she tended to peruse. Today, the body of his modeling career had been uncovered to her. And what a body! The toned expanse of his shoulders, the smooth planes of his back, the curved dip of his spine as it disappeared into those fitted jeans. Fans in the forums called it the Gabooty. She scrolled further- farther into wonderland- and was forced to abandon her phone to her lap and to press her shirt sleeve to her nostrils. Some gentle soaking and peroxide would prevent the blood from staining.

She jumped with a squeak as a gentle press of a warm hand gripped her shoulder. “Are you okay, Mlle. Marinette?” asked a concerned masculine voice. She looked up into the steely cool eyes which had hitherto contributed to her scorched psyche. “If you are unwell, perhaps you should visit the doctor.

Marinette wished that internal flame would consume her on the spot. A pile of ash couldn't feel mortification, right?

“Yes, M'sieur,” she managed, inconspicuously laying her other hand over the phone on her lap, unsure if had been screen up. “You're fine- I mean, I'm fine! Um, I was checking my e-mail before my meeting with one of your junior designers. I'm fine. Not sick. Just...” She inhaled deeply and plastered on a smile- though it was difficult to see behind her wrist. A small circle of wicked red spreading on her sleeve. “I'm well. Thank you.”

He unhanded her shoulder and nodded, making to leave. Bemusement flickered over his face. “I hope the interview goes well- and, Mlle Marinette?” He held out a cotton, pocket kerchief.

“Huh?”

“Please use this rather than your sleeve. They are easier to launder. Also, you might find the archive for Le Beau Monde agency a useful resource for your... research.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” she said, taking the kerchief and pinched it over her nose, replacing her sleeve. She registered the smoothness of her phone's screen beneath her fingertips. It was still warm.

The screen had been on.

 

 


	2. It's a Mad World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has gotten a hold of some new Adrien pics. Gabriel is doing a cool, new retro thing in his lookbook.
> 
> Blame it on Neffy. I miss you and appreciate the content you created while you were with us.   
> Based on [this](https://butterfliesandladybugs.tumblr.com/post/170412592273/ainefelai-all-around-me-are-familiar-faces)

He sprawled on the empirical chair like a rebellious prince. One leg hung over the arm in his repose. The denim split across the knee. His billowing banyan fell open, exposing his lean chest, as he looked into the camera with a sense of fierce ennui. Marinette sighed dreamily as she stared with stars in her eyes at the lazy pose of the svelte, blond model on the page. New Adrien content was always exciting- and it looked like _Gabriel_ was doing a retro thing for this public edition of the new lookbook. Quel chouette!

She hummed appreciatively and allowed her eyes to glass over, letting fantasy take her. She could be his princess, his lady, his cure to that indolent apathy. Let his hand caress her cheek as she stared into those piercing... grey... eyes.

Wait. Was he wearing contacts for this shoot?

A head nestled itself on her shoulder, peering at the image. “Hey, girl, whatcha doin'?”

Marinette's brain train paused in its confusion to excitedly share with Alya: “I just found this magazine with some Adrien pics! Isn't he amazing?”

Alya studied the picture then looked at her best friend then back at the picture then back at Marinette. “You know... that's his dad?” Alya watched as Marinette.exe failed and her brain train derailed. The only sign of life was the darkening of her face as it became the color of Nathanael's hair. She poked Marinette's cheek. “Girl, you okay?”

 

 

 

 

 


	3. "You have no power over me." Marimoth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have no power over me." Marimoth.  
> For @sinfulpapillon on Tumblr from the Chilly Down, Chilly Down Prompt list

“You have no power over me.” He stood so near, invading her space. Marinette made a concerted effort not to break eye contact with the towering, aubergine form of Hawkmoth. She clenched her jaw as his laughter echoed through the chamber. Little, white butterflies fluttered from the floor and into the air like a chorus around them.

“Don't I, petit chou? I think you've misread the situation,” he intoned, and then breathily, “You will give me the power I desire.” He caressed her cheek with his gloved knuckles, brushing past her soon to be naked earlobes. Hawkmoth's eyes softened as he felt her determination and her fear. He crooked a finger under chin and lifted it farther until she was straining, but she remained still, defiant, eyes narrowed.

“Why would I do that?” she spat. She tried to swallow. It was difficult and slightly painful with her head craning.

He hummed in response and brought his face down, close- so close- to her own. His lips ghosted over her own but never touching. He could feel the faint tremble of her lips. She could feel his hot breath against her face. Hawkmoth's voice rumbled softly like distant thunder, “Because you want to.”

 


	4. "Stop blushing like that." Gabribug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill: "Stop blushing like that." Gabribug; for Sinfulpapillon  
> from the Chilly Down, Chilly Down prompt list on my Tumblr
> 
> When an akuma de-ages a bunch of people (including Gabriel Agreste), Ladybug is charged as his guardian until they can figure something out. For Gabriel, it's been a while since he has felt the force of youth in the presence of a pretty, little bug.

“Stop blushing like that.”

He was startled out of his distraction by her command. Gabriel raised a hand to his cheek and felt the tell-tale heat of the alleged blush. _Oh, for the love of_ \- Being reverted to a young adult had some very uncomfortably unintended consequences (like getting lost in the contemplation of a young woman in a form fitting costume and the incidentally difficult to control physiological response to said contemplation). He shifted in his seat behind his desk and tried to scowl. “I'm not blushing,” he grumbled at the desk.

Ladybug watched out the window and looked down at the communicator in anticipation. “Don't worry, M. Agreste. Chat Noir and I will make sure everything is turned to right in no time... wherever he is...” He tried to concentrate on paperwork, on sketching, on literally anything other than the feminine figure across the room. The light of the setting sun kissed her face. Warm, dusk hued rays brushed highlights through her midnight locks like twilight in a pixie cut. His eyes traced the swells and ebbs of her outline.

When Ladybug shifted her weight on her feet, wiggling her hips in agitation, Gabriel choked back a groan only to elicit some strangled bastardization of a gurgle. And he was caught. (Next time, Hawkmoth was not leaving his lair no matter the danger of suspicion). Had he really forgotten how to comport himself with some semblance of gentlemanly behavior in the face of hormones? The heat was back. Ladybug turned, wide eyes meeting his. He could feel himself getting warmer and redder despite trying to hide his discomfort with a few coughs and averted gaze.

If he had kept looking at her, he would have noticed her own face turn three shades of pink along the edges of the mask.

“ _Please_ , M. Agreste.”

“I am so sorry, Miss Ladybug. My behavior is inexcusable. I, uh, I haven't been this... young... in some time.” He stood suddenly, startling a little squeak from the scandalized Ladybug. “I'm sure I'll be fine if you'd like to find your partner and settle this matter.”

“N-no. You're great- I mean, it's great- er- fine. You're fine! EVERYTHING'S FANTASTIC!” She paused and he could only stare at her fluster. “Chat and I agreed that I would stay with you until this is figured out, and I'm not leaving you alone. J-just...” Her eyes implored, “ _please_ , stop blushing like that.”

He cleared his throat. “I... wish I could. But why?”

Her face reddened, she craned her neck to look at the ceiling, and she groaned. “Because I can't stop wondering how far it goes.”

Suddenly, Gabriel's mouth was parched. He licked his lips. His heart raced. “Well, we may be here a while, so you could... find out.”

 


	5. "It's so stimulating being your hat." author's choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkmoth has been dormant for years but is suddenly back with a very annoying akuma.
> 
> "It's so stimulating being your hat." Author's choice pairing.   
> for nerdierholler on Tumblr, my super supportive friend who is not in this fandom.  
> From the Chilly-down Chilly-down prompt list

“It's so stimulating being your hat.” The purple, wide-brimmed chapeau atop Ladybug's head rolled its eyes from the silvery band.

“Shut up, mothballs, I'm trying to think. You're lucky I'm Ladybug right now or I'd be tempted to drop kick you into the Seine.”

“Aren't you always Ladybug? Savior of Paris?”

“As much as you're always Hawkmoth: Supreme Pain in the Ass; Ruiner of Lives; World's Greatest Dickhead.” Hawkmoth was finally silent- presumably brooding. “I'm accepting hints if you have any.”

Her hat snorted. “You could always give me your miraculous. No more akumas. Go back to your little life. Everyone wins.”

“Really? You come out of retirement for this old schtick? I doubt earrings would do you much good in your current state, so... in your dreams, purple prick.”

“Such language for Paris' Lady,” he tutted.

“I had other plans for today, you overcompensating, megalomaniacal excuse of a man. And, instead of dealing with your crap with my partner, I've been saddled with the reason I don't have a normal life- as my HAT. I don't know what the pattern is with this akuma and why people are turning into hats and getting stuck to other people's heads. Is it everyone's arch-nemesis or is this just a special present for me? Chat has clearly become someone's hat somewhere. So, congratulations on one of the most annoying akumatizations ever. Talk about coming back from your years' long hiatus with a bang. You created it. What am I dealing with?”

“Well, he makes hats that talk. What a delight to have the voice in your head suddenly on your head! Never to lose them again. Am I on your mind often, little bug? Do you miss our time together?” he crooned.

“I wish I had a hat pin.” They fell into silence as Ladybug contemplated the situation. Today was adding up to fantastic. Just... the best day ever. Issues at work, tension with her best friend and parents over a boyfriend they hated, a fight with said boyfriend, and now an akuma appropriately a half hour after she'd stormed out of lunch with him. Oh, and her arch-nemesis was now apparently back and the literal voice on her head! Best. Day. Ever.

Hawkmoth sighed deeply, with resignation. “He's a broken man; he- he lost. She was his conductor of light and the voice in his head that made him better- made him _want_ to be a better man, and he pushed her away. He got what he wanted but he can't stand to lose her voice... So Chap-au-tete makes sure no one will ever be without the voice that drives them.” His voice tightened and lowered. “He made a mistake and wants to fix it.”

Ladybug's throat constricted with emotion. If he was in earnest; if he was for true... Her voice barely above a whisper: “You beautiful disaster, what have you done?”

 


	6. "What Did You Have To Do a Thing Like That For???" Marimoth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "4B with a side of Gabrinette and identity reveal?" -wilhemares  
> "Marimoth maybe?" -sinfulmarinette
> 
> "What did you have to go and do a thing like that for?"  
> "Do what? Do you mean rescue you?"  
> "No! You kissed me!"  
> for [LadybugSin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybugsin) and [Wilhelmares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilhelmares) from the Chilly Down Chilly Down prompt list
> 
> >|< >|< >|< >|< >|<

This was it. This was the end of Marinette. The end of Ladybug. And Gabriel- her dear, deceptively sweet, total drama queen of a husband would probably turn to ice even as he let the world burn. And Chat Noir wouldn't know anything other than that his friend, Marinette, had been run through with a sword while plastered to the wall with hardened goo in a corner of the Louvre by a rogue monster from horde in the rest of the museum. A sword-fighting, blob monster. At least she could console herself that it was, at least, an interesting end. The blade would reach her in a millisecond and-

  
She was covered in a spray of sticky, viscous blob monster as a sharp sword split the creature and it melted to the floor. Her purple-hooded rescuer replaced the blade to its scabbard, striding long strides with his long legs through the goo at his feet to stand before her. Marinette knew him- or rather, knew of him. This was Hawkmoth. He rarely made appearances, happy to send his recruits to do his bidding. But here he was, cutting down a monster for her, and a hairsbreadth between them as he worked her limbs loose from their encasement.

His steely gaze bore into her the entire time he was freeing her, scarcely leaving her face- like he was searching for something. Her heart raced. Adrenaline surged. She couldn't look away. So, when she was no longer trapped by monster spit and she instead found herself trapped in his arms and hugged against him, his lips pressing her own- desperate and hungry and pleading- she found herself parting her lips to his panting kiss. It was only when the heady assault ended and he continued to hug her to him that she recalled herself. Marinette pushed out of his arms and coiled her arm back to punch him across the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell?!” Hawkmoth cried, stepping back and rubbing where she'd hit him.

“Why did you have to go and do a thing like that for?!” She shouted back.

“Do what? Do you mean rescue you? You're welcome, by the way.”

“No!” She touched her lips, horrified with herself for giving in to exhilaration that she'd felt. “You kissed me!”

“You never complained before!” Silence passed between them as he seemed to recall in what capacity he had rescued her and she realized in what context she would not have complained at his amorous advances. She didn't move. She didn't speak. And he had the sneaking suspicion that this was a topic they would end up discussing at length- if she ever spoke to him again. So, with haste, he gave a courtly bow, bid a chivalrous, “Madame,” and high-tailed it out of the alcove, leaving her staring after him in stunned consternation. He would wrap this up, go home, maybe make some adjustments to a present he was designing and constructing in the atelier (it was going to have to be a lot more special now), and hope that she somehow forgot that this happened, that it was him, and they could just keep... being happy. No awkward conversations. The end. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been patient with me and so encouraging while I work on some prompts that have been sitting there for a bit. I love doing these. Real life has been kicking me a bit with responsibilities and anxiety/depression and me trying to take care of myself so I can do the things that absolutely need to happen (like having food and clean underpants) and eventually get around to doing things that I actually like doing- like THIS! So thank you for your support.


	7. "Am I a Good Man?" Gabribug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [SinfulPapillon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfulpapillon) from the Chilly Down Chilly Down prompt list

“Am I a good man?”

Though Hawkmoth had been quiet for just over a year, new threats to the city's safety demanded that she and Chat Noir remain vigilant. Tonight, though, Paris hummed a lullaby as the lights twinkled in the summer heat. Nevertheless, Ladybug's mind was not so at ease. Her chest ached. And she had to admit (however begrudgingly, and with kicking and screaming) that its root was a burgeoning garden in her heart for one Gabriel Agreste.

Except Gabriel was Hawkmoth. Or had been.

She had no one to blame but herself (and maybe his stupid face and his stupid passion and his stupid philanthropic endeavors and his stupid gentleness and his stupid, blatant attempts to be a Not a Fiery Garbage Pile Person as she proclaimed during her less than reasonable moments). After Chat confided to her that Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, a really, very long conversation about what to do with this information (read: akumatizeable Ladybug, which was further proof that Hawkmoth must have closed shop), and that an accord had been drawn. Chat refused to say how he came by this knowledge or how the treatise had been reached. She insisted that she monitor the status of this “accord”.

It became her wont to stop by during her patrols. Most nights, she found him in his study or- like tonight- on the balconette. He was waiting for her. They stood in companionable silence for nearly an hour, neither inclined to speak: he, presumably, for his own love of quiet, and she with the weight of responsibility warring with her discomfiting affections, when Gabriel turned his face to her and broke it with his soft, unexpected question.

Ladybug regarded him levelly. She couldn't lie to him. She wanted to deflect like Chat would- to say something like, 'Sure. You're a man, and you're... good at it?' But, no. She wouldn't do that. Instead, she said, “No,” and watched his face fall before she added with a hand over his on the railing, “but you're trying to be, and I think that's the point.”

 


	8. "“I ask for so little; just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave." Marimoth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for SinfulPapillon  
> a scene from the ["You Can't Steal My Heart"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12515308) AU; maybe it'll make it to the story, maybe I'm just faffing about with it. ;p

“I ask for so little; just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave,” Hawkmoth pleaded, cupping his wine glass in his hands, his eyes beseeching hers across the small table in her dinette. Marinette laughed at him and he felt his heart break a little.

“You're cute after a few glasses, but I think it's time for you to put that down. It's late anyway,” Marinette said. She reached to take the glass but he pulled it out of reach and glowered.

“You don't believe me.”

“Believe what? That The Hawkmoth who heads the Akuma theft ring and rival to the Miraculous crew, who's been coming to see me for the last several months to tempt me into joining him- but let's be honest, these are more of a late night social call at this point- Do I believe that that man just quoted Labyrinth at me in earnest?”

Hawkmoth stared into the remaining Burgundy, his throat tight. When she put it that way... But he was in earnest, and that's what made his heart burn. It was eating him alive because it was easier to be honest with her like this- with a glass of fermented courage and someone else's words and a mask between them. His expression tightened, “Won't you, though?” And he looked up. “Please?”

Her lips moued in surprise and her eyes widened. “What are you saying, Hawkmoth?”

He was silent for a moment before closing his eyes and taking in a shaky breath then placing his glass on the table. He couldn't do it. He couldn't say it, couldn't make himself quite that vulnerable after all. Not tonight. “You're right,” he opened his eyes and met hers once more, “it is late. I'm sorry for... that.” He made a vague gesture. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood. The poor man was sure she could hear it if she tried. Maybe then she would know what he meant to say and believe it. Believe in him.

Marinette stood with him and walked him to the door without another word between them. She let him out; he left without turning back. If only he had, he might have seen the disappointment written in her features.

 


End file.
